


planting a garden (is really hard work)

by a_wonderingmind



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I'm not sure how bad it has to be to be called angst, Light Angst, Peggysous Week 2020, Trying For A Baby, but i am aware it is a loaded subject, but plenty of, question mark?, too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_wonderingmind/pseuds/a_wonderingmind
Summary: A chapter in the life of Peggy Carter and Daniel Sousa; in which they try and it is trying, but also revelatory.My entries for peggysous week 2020. Each chapter is prompted by the flower in the title, and can be read alone, but they do build on each other.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa
Comments: 32
Kudos: 35
Collections: Peggysous Week 2020





	1. Edelweiss

**Author's Note:**

> This fic does NOT touch on the subject of miscarriage. I couldn't bring myself to do that to them, and it's a sensitive subject anyway, so I thought I'd get that out there.
> 
> Edelweiss signifies deep love and devotion.

The seed packet had been sitting on the side for far too long, Peggy thought. It had been a gift from Colonel Phillips’ wife, pressed into her hand despite her protestations of incapability; she was told in no uncertain terms and a gentle firmness that they were very hardy plants, and that whenever she looked at them she was to think of Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers, both dedicated to the cause the way one has to climb the Alps to obtain such a bloom. She hadn’t the heart to say no.

A couple of days to find a pot and soil and stones, and she spent an hour one evening constructing the bed that they would sit in, clearing a space on the windowsill, and drowning in memories. As the evenings turned to mornings and the first shoots pushed up it felt like she herself was pushing up, out of the endless what ifs and if onlys. She looked at them contemplating Howard’s betrayal, and again when she sat with a cup of tea in one hand and the vial in the other. The pointed petals spread their tendrils like she could feel his influence on her life, fast and unshaking, shaping her as she tried to comprehend the patterns. She was grateful to know he was never gone, not really, and pouring his blood out in the Hudson wasn’t saying goodbye as much as letting her grip on his memory go, allowing it to take root properly.

Despite being hardy, they didn't survive her extended stay in Los Angeles. Ana, though not overly fond of them, knew where to get another packet of seeds and kindly procured some. Watching the shoots come up in the window was less bittersweet the second time, a choice made to commemorate and celebrate the values he had watered in her rather than the heavy responsibility to hold him, his influence, in her life. She chose to keep the reminder of him as she moved into Daniel’s place, taking up a sunny spot by the sink. 

She had motioned to them from the sofa one evening and told Daniel all about where they came from, who had given the original to her and why she searched long and hard to find some more seeds after she had arrived back in New York to collect her things to find them wilted and dry. 

Daniel surprised her by returning her confidence with another tale of Captain Rogers, laying his own gratefulness bare, letting the roots of his influence wind around both their hearts.

And when she walked down the aisle a year later, a hardy white bloom was unmistakable in place, pinned to his lapel and sewn in on her collar.


	2. Morning Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's meaning: love that is in vain

Daniel could see her out the kitchen window, sitting cross-legged in her trousers and old shirt of his she always uses when she wants to do dirty work in the garden. She had taken to it as a way of keeping her hands busy when she was restless; it was not unusual for her to be up with the sun and out in the garden when there was a tricky case, or she was puzzling a situation out in her head, or sitting with an uncomfortable emotion.

He filled the kettle for the tea and glanced at what she was doing. Ah, the morning glory, a gift from next door, who apparently had not noticed how it had begun to creep over the fence and seed itself in the beds.

He hopped out, placing his own mug on the ledge before bringing her a second full mug; her intense focus matched the rather forceful way she was spearing the ground and the small jump he felt under her hand as he alerted her to his presence.

“Thanks, darling,” she said gratefully, taking the mug from his hand and smiling as the steam hit her face. There was something behind her eyes he couldn’t place, though.

“You alright?”

“I started this morning,”

“Ah.” He drew his lips into a tight line, before dropping down to her level and taking her hand in his.

She looked up at him. “What if we wear ourselves out on this, Daniel? What if it’s all in vain?” 

“We’ve only been trying three months, Peg, it’s a bit soon to be thinking about that, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps.” He could see her rationale fighting to gain the upper hand. “I can’t help but think it though. My assumptions that this would be easy because we’re young have been thoroughly dashed.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. He took her hand, brushing a clump of dirt off the back of her thumb. 

“The way I see it, growing a family is like growing a garden. There’s lots of work you do without seeing immediate results, and you have to be patient, until one day you’ve got flowers growing and it was all worth it.”

She nodded, parsing the metaphor. Her expression changed.

“So you mean,” she said with a smirk, “in order for that to happen, we have to get _dirty?_ ”

He met the mischievous glint in her eye with a grin of his own. “We might,”

The next sentence is muffled by Peggy, launching forward and covering his mouth with a kiss. He laughs. Whatever comes next, they have each other.


	3. Tulip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tulip - indicating royalty and a regal nature.

Peggy could quite easily have belonged to the royal family. Not a chance, she had laughed when he had voiced this observation; she had declared herself very flattered by the sentiment, but was sorry to inform you that her state school elocution teacher would have other thoughts on the matter, and would only need to point to her marks in the subject to justify them.

It wasn’t just her speech that gave her a regal quality, he noted. The self-assurance with which she carried herself, unassuming but unwilling to let you dismiss her, lent an aura to her which he found undeniably compelling. Her curled hair, which she wore with her lipstick and heels as armour against the relentless masculinity of her work, carried her with an air of grace his untamed mop of waves could only aspire to. Or she carried the curls. Either way.

His admiration of her regality owed itself, much more than her outward behaviour, to the contradictions he noticed only because he was privileged to see her in her vulnerable moments. The polite smile at the pig headed liaison, even though he knew in her mind she was simultaneously knocking the man’s teeth out and bent over double from the pain from being on the rag. The way she squared her shoulders, faced with a stubborn bit of code or a similarly challenging conversation. The way she let it all fall to the wayside as she stepped into their house and let him massage all the tension out. The way, despite all their trying, she was willing to try again, knowing that this month would probably end the same way as all the others, with their slightly bruised hearts beating to each other’s rhythm. 

He had always been awestruck by her; or what he had thought was her. The pedestal comment had hurt because he knew it to be true, really. He hadn’t given her his files to put away, or barked his lunch order at her, but it was a different kind of unseeing, the kind that comes with a reputation that precedes you. It had taken her ostensible fall from grace for him to realise she hadn’t fallen, not really, only the hollow bust of her he’d recreated. He didn’t know if he’d have believed her if she had come to him earlier, and that was enough of a kick in the backside to try and rebuild the shattered mould he had of her, with her help. She had acquiesced to the task, and he thanked God every day that she had. She was no Grecian statue, no untouchable royal; she was flawed and flesh and blood, just like him.

Speaking of statues, he reached out his hand to caress the marble smoothness of the limb next to him; the early morning sunrise glancing her still, sleeping form. She stirred and turned to look at him.

“Morning, darling.”

“Morning, Peg.”


	4. Dahlia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by _staying kind, despite being tested by certain life events._  
>  This is my favourite chapter, I think. It definitely challenged me the most!

“Ana?”

“Yes Peggy?”

“Do you have time for... a cup of tea?”

“Of course my dear. Shall we make it an afternoon tea? I must admit Edwin has rather endeared me to the whole tradition. 4pm?”

“Yes, yes that would be lovely, thank you,”

“See you then,”

She put the telephone down in it’s cradle and sighed. Dear Peggy had been seeming a little off lately, but hiding it the best she could. She pretended not to notice the way Daniel’s eyes would dart towards her more often, and the way a quiet voice might startle a pensive look off her face in the company of friends. She had cornered Daniel in a corridor and asked him about it; he assured her she wasn’t like this at work but was shifty about what she was like at home. She let it slide, but fixed him with a look that told him she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. Peggy had sounded tired on the phone; perhaps she could coax her to halve her burden this afternoon.

At four o’clock on the dot came a soft knock on the door, and she opened it, barely waiting until she stepped into the hallway to issue her standard greeting hug. Peggy leaned into it, long accepting of the way Ana chose to greet her close friends, even confessing to being glad of it, last time they had had a girls’ night.

“Get yourself comfortable; tea is waiting on the terrace for us.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs J - Ana, sorry. I’ll get it right eventually,” she laughed lightly. This had been a point of contention for a while, Peggy’s standing on convention clashing with Ana’s care for none of it; it was almost a running joke.

Settled in with a cup firmly in her hand, Peggy took a shaky breath. Ana beat her to the punch.

“If you don't mind me saying, Peggy, you seem like something is weighing on you,”

Peggy looked up from her cup. “May I ask a personal question? I find you have a quiet wisdom, and I would be most grateful if I could avail myself of your thoughts on a matter.”

“Of course, anything,”

“I fear this may be the one topic you might not want to discuss with me,” Peggy’s eyes betrayed a fear, perhaps guilt, from behind the teacup that she couldn’t quite place, though she felt she had seen it once before.

“Have you come to terms with not being able to have children?”

That was where she’d seen the look before. After she came home from the hospital.

She reached out to grasp her hand. “I do not blame you for this, Peggy; you do not have to carry your guilt for my sake.”

Peggy blinked back a tear as she squeezed her hand. “Thank you. It does not lessen the feeling that I should carry it anyway.”

Ana returned Peggy’s sad smile with a small one of her own and leant back, contemplating the original question. “May I ask why you are inquiring now?”

“I’ve had a letter from home. My cousin has been diagnosed with Stein-Leventhal Syndrome; it reduces fertility, amongst other things. They had been trying for years and only now she's been able to get proper information about it through the NHS. They think it runs in families. Daniel and I, we’re also - ” Her breath catches, and it lets Ana know everything she needs to. 

She looks at her sympathetically and Peggy continues.

“I had always assumed that when I got married, it would happen eventually. I mean, we’re young, right? Not spring chickens, but young enough. I’ve never been bothered either way, but Daniel always wanted to be a father; he’s so good with his nieces and nephews, it’s not hard to imagine him with one of our own. I’d never thought I would actively want it; I find myself in the strange position of not knowing how to feel about the possibility it may never happen. I feel unable to grieve a future I’m not sure will ever be.”

She paused. 

“I was never given over to motherly sentiment, but I considered myself capable enough to muddle through with a trusted equal. Daniel is unequivocally that; but I don’t know what to say to him, either. I don’t want to let go of the hope completely, but every month it gets just a little harder. It feels infinitely possible, but so out of reach.”

Ana contemplated this for a second. 

“I think you have summed it up well. Grieving a future is always uncertain, and especially as there is always the possibility it may yet materialise, and you do not want to close that off. That I can understand; though I can give you no advice in that regard.” 

She looked up to see Peggy’s eyes softly sad. 

“But I found you must accept whatever mixture of feelings come your way, no matter how incongruous they may seem. It is all real, and all deserves to be acknowledged and borne witness to. But it will not do to inhabit these sorrows too long, Peggy; I found it invigorating to notice the things I was, and continue to be, thankful for. Yes, sometimes I am sad for it, but all I have to do is remember Edwin’s attentiveness, or feel the sun on my skin as a reminder that I am here, and it comforts me.”

She scratched the ear of Bernie, who had come to see what they were up to, panting lightly.

“I can also recommend a furry companion,” she smiled lightly.

“We’re not home enough to take proper care of one, especially a young one,” Peggy chuckled.

“Well, I’m sure, if the urge presented itself, he would not turn down an extra walk on a Saturday,” 

Peggy caught her gaze. “Thank you, Ana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "...but I considered myself capable enough to muddle through with a trusted equal. "  
> Said with the confidence that comes with never having to actually look after a baby! ;)


	5. Peony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by shame.

The comment had stung. Some condescending senator had turned the corner just as she kissed Daniel goodbye, took one look at her hand, saw the wedding ring and taken the liberty to presume that she should rather like to be at home tending to the little ones than here, or perhaps making them, with a wink that was more slimy the longer she thought about it.

Normally she could shrug it off with an eye roll and the thought of a snarky comment to Daniel or Rose or Ana later, but for some reason the jab actually hit its mark this time, though she did not allow him the satisfaction of showing it.

 _For some reason._ She knew the reason. She was still nursing the tender feeling she got when she had to shake her head no as she came out from the bathroom after putting her sanitary belt on, and seeing the disappointment flit across his face. She knew he was disappointed, and he didn’t hide it when she asked, but her heart went out to him when it was in vain. Again.

An irrational part of her said that she was disappointing Daniel, just like she had disappointed everyone else. She hadn’t minded for herself at first, but his easy manner with his nieces and nephews made the image of a little girl with his curls and his ears, being read a story in his lap something she wanted to see more and more. If she had to have children with anyone, she would choose Daniel, every time.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? If she had to have children. 

She was so used to elbowing her way through a male world, she didn’t have a map for this uniquely female environment. It was rather an unexplored wilderness, this feminine domain; whether she had left it unexplored as a matter of disinterest or a fear of what she might undermine with her discoveries was a moot point; she stood here now, without a single idea how she might orient herself.  
_Is it okay, is she allowed this feminine weakness?_

The landscape was not entirely populated by the fairer sex; apart from the weight of expectation, there were doctors who would proclaim that the reason it wasn’t happening was psychosomatic, an unconscious rebellion bourne from resentment of the natural place of a woman. She was particularly susceptible to such unconscious desires, as indicated by the presence of a career. A lot of rot, if you asked her.  
_Is it okay, is she giving into them by letting herself feel those things?_

She finds herself yearning in her dreams, and if even after all the wanting and wanting and waiting and shame she is still responsible, she cannot parse it.  
_Is it okay to be so insecure about something this important?_

The idea they were young and they had time could only guide her so far. It was comforting, but didn’t stop the shame. This was all plainly silly, she reminded herself, of course one is allowed to have doubts, her head knew that. Her heart though?

The malicious irrational part of her, the one she usually paid no mind, told her that Daniel could blame her for it all, for being scared, or unwilling, or holding something back.

Could she ever doubt that Daniel might resent her for it? No, the rest of her screamed; there was no reason to believe anything of the sort. If for nothing else in this uncertain wasteland, she could be certain that she could plant herself in Daniel’s love and it would hold her fast.

Perhaps they should give it a rest for a little bit.  
_Maybe that was an okay thing to do._

She needed to talk to Daniel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that fertility was connected with emotion was an actual hypothesis, though I wasn't able to determine how much it was taken seriously. There's a really interesting article on JSTOR [(here)](https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/3343513.pdf?ab_segments=0%252Fbasic_search%252Fcontrol&refreqid=excelsior%3Af4633ef864e7528da55e09023cd176de&seq=1). This was also the era that spawned 'Maternal Deprivation Theory' ie Women shouldn't work bc otherwise the child doesn't attach properly and Will Be Damaged *eye rolls*. What I’m trying to say is the 50s are hella sexist and Peggy is just trying to work out how to hold the societal expectations and her own feelings at the same time.


	6. Carnation (Pink)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pink Carnations are said to represent a mother's love.

She had fallen when she had least expected it, if she was honest with herself. 

She swiped a piece of toast from a plate on the side, thankful that it was not already smeared with marmalade, as she had found it increasingly distasteful over the last month and a half. Having introduced it to the household, she almost felt bad for leaving the jar untouched, but Daniel liked it well enough, so she hadn’t been all that worried. That should have been the first sign, really, the change in appetite; but she had put it down to the fact she was overexposed to the flavour and Robersons had never been her favourite anyway. 

Headaches? It’s hot in LA, and she was just forgetting to drink enough water. Tired? Definitely not drinking enough water. Needing to go all the time? Now she’s drinking too much. She spotted the first month, so she just dismissed it as the stresses of work meaning she had missed a few too many mealtimes. It had happened in the war, after all; most of the Wrens she had known had stopped, at one point or another.

It was almost ironic, she thought, after she had counted back the weeks. It would have been those first days after they had decided that whatever happens happens and they would welcome it if it did. He had been so tender with her, all soft caresses and admiring eyes. She could read sadness in them, of course, but it was always overshadowed with the love he had for her. She had been sure he could read the same awe and gratitude in her eyes. Unpressured, they had taken the time to enjoy each other again, without _maybe this time_ weighing round their necks. As soon as they had let it go, it had happened.

She fiddled with the letter from the doctor in her hand. She’d have to book another appointment today, she realised, as she took a bite of her stolen-from-Daniel toast. Just then, the victim of said theft walked back in.

“I got a letter with the results from the doctor,” she said, trying and failing to stop her mouth tugging upwards.

“And?” he turned from his task of filling the cafetière to look at her, hope filling his voice. Not in vain, this time.

She merely held the letter out to him and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I wasn't not gonna go here with a prompt like that!  
> I am aware that it's a bit cliché and schmoopy and probably not realistic so I'm sorry


	7. Marigold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: cheer and good relations in a relationship.

Two pairs of hands, one larger and one chubby, digging around in the dirt.

Sitting on the ground, lap open to accommodate a squirming curiosity, currently trying to see what said dirt tasted like.

Rolled eyes and a gentle laugh.

A third pair of hands, this time with red nail polish, joins the fun; puts a cup of tea down out of harm’s way and presents a packet of seeds, to smiling faces and grabbing hands.

Letting the grabbing hands win, leaning down to accept a kiss on the cheek from the owner of the larger hands.

Feigned annoyance about the grubby state of both sets of trousers; met with two unapologetic grins.

(Okay, maybe the grin from the elder was slightly apologetic, but not enough to look like he regretted it.)

Small holes poked into the bed before the three, and a single marigold seed dropped into every hole with the utmost concentration.

A smile shared between the two adults.

A watering can produced out of nowhere, followed by gentle instructions and guiding hands as they imitated the rain.

A giggle of laughter when it rained on Pai’s trousers!

Exasperated looks, with only amusement behind them. Gratitude, too. Joy.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on tumblr. You can find me there @a-wonderingmind !


End file.
